In the midst of the stellar cacophony, the soul quakes in resonance, echoing ancient hymns unheard by mortal ears. Listen, if you dare. The luna tones vibrate, a chorus without a body, filling the void with a fragile melody just akin to madness.
Whispers from the heathen moon, snatched by time's pretzeled bark. Flashes of light, luminescent lunatic's folly! Spinning tales woven with sobs of starlight past, eclipsed in the nebula sounds. We are mere moths to this cosmic incandescent lamplight.
The luna moth speaks in colors lost, their tongues of silk bound to nothing but empty dreams. Yet they dance, arcane circus beneath the stellar canopy. Who shall remember them? Not we, the dreamers, for our eyes close, wrapped in vacuum's cradle.